Of Cullens and Coonasses
by edwardian1901
Summary: The Cullens travel to the Bayou State, where Jasper rediscovers his fondness for firearms and makes a mistake that lands him and Emmett in trouble with Carlisle. Warning: corporal punishment, spanking. Please don't read if that offends.
1. Chapter 1

**_Twilight_ is the intellectual property of Stephenie Meyer; I am not Stephenie Meyer. I am J. K. Rowling.**

**Please forgive this bit of formulaic nonsense. I wrote this for Cumor. To make her laugh after a particularly angsty chapter of Dark Justice. I'm hoping it makes you laugh, too. I need a bit of prodding to go on from here, so ... we shall see. If a couple of you like what you find here, let me know and I'll write more.**

**Thanks sisterglitch for being my beta bestie!**

"Who put Jasper in charge of the rental car process?" Edward asked irritably.

He wasn't bad-tempered. Not at the moment anyway. He was quite the opposite, seeing as he was on his way to reunite with his girls. He _was_ amused, however, by the generic crossover mini-van/SUV he was driving, which Jasper had acquired at the airport.

"Don't be a hater, Edward," Emmett said sarcastically. "Jasper made a very sensible choice. This vehicle certainly comprises all the latest _safety_ features."

Edward nodded in mock approval. "You're right. I think I ought to consider getting one of these for my daughter when she's ready to drive."

"Yeah, it's so safe," Emmett agreed. "And pretty too. What is this we're in, Jasper? A Nissan Unicorn?"

"No, no," Edward countered, "it's a Jeep, Little Mermaid edition."

"Hey, nothing girly about a Jeep," Emmett quipped. "But do you happen to have any Celine Dion on your iPod there? I have a hankering for that _Titanic_ song." He began to hum "My Heart Will Go On."

Jasper, riding shotgun, ignored their ragging for the most part. He was quite used to it, and he had endured Emmett poking his head over the back of his seat to share one-liners during the entire cross-country flight.

He shook his head. "I took what they had left in the size we needed." He didn't know why he was wasting his breath though. This sort of ribbing was what the Cullen brothers did…whether there was cause for it or not.

"I don't particularly want to be on this trip," Jasper admitted. "It's Alice making me."

"It's Alice making all of us," Edward corrected.

Emmett slapped his knee. "Yeah, ever since she found out her birthday, she makes us celebrate the whole month. That's ridiculous. There are only twelve months in a year, and one of those dedicated to Alice and doing whatever she wants…? It's gotten way out of hand. She must be stopped."

"Getting out of hand is what Alice does best." Jasper grinned.

"And there is no stopping her," said Edward. "What's it matter? We do whatever she wants year-round anyway."

"Well," Jasper started. "I told her it was too soon for me to go anywhere. 'I can't leave the Sea Monkeys,' I said. They're only babies."

"Dude, that's a lame excuse."

Jasper looked back at Emmett and smiled. "That's what she said. Alice promised that the babies would be fine when I got back home."

"That's the worst 'that's-what-she-said' joke I ever heard," Emmett dismissed. Then he resorted to his favorite pastime, which was making noises to resemble human flatulence.

"We can thank our lucky stars that we're not in _that_ car," Edward jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the vehicle that held Alice, Rosalie, and Esme.

"You got that right, brother," seconded Emmett.

"Carlisle is about to go out of his ever-loving mind," Edward revealed.

It was then that Carlisle passed them on the right with a panicked expression on his face. The doctor had recently taken to wearing spectacles when out and about. He said it supported the pseudo-human impression they all worked to achieve, but Edward knew that Esme thought it was sexy and that was the only reason Carlisle bothered with the prop at all.

Emmett exploded in laughter at Carlisle's appearance. "Man, if they are listening to Celine, I'm changing rides."

"They're listening to Taylor Swift," Edward answered.

On cue, Emmett started singing, "We are never, ever, ever getting back together."

"Like, ever," Jasper finished.

"We ought to let him join us," Edward said, meaning their father.

"Is he wearing his belt? Because I don't want what happened the last time to happen again," Emmett said, not sounding _too_ worried.

Edward rolled his eyes. "That belt wore out."

Jasper chuckled. "I bet it did. And it's not like he can't use one of our belts if he needs to."

All three boys shuddered at the thought.

"Are we there yet!" Emmett yelled suddenly. "Edward, you're driving like Carlisle."

"Actually worse. Carlisle just passed us," Jasper pointed out.

"Fine. You're driving like Esme."

"Your mother," Edward retorted while stepping on the accelerator and pushing a button on the controls so that "I Drove All Night" came blaring through the car speakers.

"That's not how you say it," said Emmett. "It's 'yo momma'."

Jasper's turn. "You talkin' 'bout my momma?"

When both vehicles finally reached the spacious and secluded hunting cabin, Edward was overjoyed to see Bella and Renesmee again. His girls had flown out to Florida early to visit with Bella's mother before meeting here in the Louisiana backwoods, where Alice had specified. Charlie was here, too, with Sue, Seth, and Leah. Jacob had accompanied Bella and Nessie, and now he was helping his father, Billy, make it out to the site by aid of an ATV.

"Well, that's it for Edward then," Emmett remarked watching his little brother fall to the charms of his little family.

"Don't sweat it, Em. You and I can make our own fun." Jasper said this while running his hand admiringly over the barrel of a Browning over-under shotgun. The Major had an unusual affinity for firearms. He kept some of his own at home, but he didn't actually fire them. They were antique, and he kept them for their looks, once in a while fetching one out of the cabinet to hold. He called them such names as Billie Jo, Ann Margaret, and Caroline. As fond as he was of the girls, well…there wasn't really anything worth shooting at.

That was when he considered Emmett, who was standing six feet from him.

"Don't do that," Edward warned, responding to Jasper's thoughts.

"Hey," Jasper said to Emmett, grabbing the gun off the truck's toolbox and snubbing Edward. "Do you think it would hurt if I shot you from here?"

The big fellow sighed and shrugged. "I don't know." He thought a moment. "Okay, fine. You can do it. But not in my head," he added emphatically. Then he turned around, hunched over, and covered his hair with his hands.

"Don't be idiots!" Rosalie chided.

"Aw, I can handle it, babe," he replied, peeking back at her.

"You really want to start out this vacation with a gunshot wound, do you? I'm not hauling your broken ass around New Orleans tomorrow."

"It's not going to damage him," Edward explained, "but I don't know if Carlisle will approve of this activity."

"Alice," Jasper asked, "do you see anything, darlin'?"

She looked perplexed. "Uh…"

"It's the damn mutts," Em muttered under his breath.

Jasper grinned. Checking the breach, he found it loaded with bird shot. He stood at an angle, raised the butt of the gun to his shoulder, and nestled his cheek against it. Aiming the barrel, he clicked the safety off and pulled the trigger, hitting Emmett in his right buttock.

"Ya!" he screamed, looking back over his shoulder. "That hurt, jackass." He shook himself, then bent over again. "Okay, do the other side."

"Emmett, you blockhead," Rose insulted.

Jasper fired quickly.

"Ow! God!" Emmett clutched his left cheek.

"Oh, come on. That's nothing. I think we ought to try bigger pellets." Jasper started rifling around the bed of the pickup.

"Yeah, let me do you this time."

"Fine," he agreed, replacing the shell with a slug.

"Jasper Whitlock, don't you dare ruin those new clothes!" Alice threatened.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, slipping his jeans down and pulling his legs out. Emmett whistled. Edward covered Nessie's eyes. Jasper continued to strip by pulling his shirt over his head.

Then he leaned forward against the truck, laying his head on his folded arms.

Emmett took aim and fired. The bullet struck Jasper's lower back, then ricocheted off. Unfortunately, the ammunition hit an unsuspecting Carlisle, who was returning to the site with Esme, Charlie, Jacob, and Billy. He did not know what had hit him. His mouth was open in shock as he held his right hand to his chest, the slug having impacted his palm. Esme immediately grabbed Carlisle and steered him to where he could sit.

Charlie bent down to pick up the flattened bullet from the pine needles. He spun around, finding an alarmed Emmett holding a shotgun loosely at his side. "Did you just shoot your father?" he asked. That was when the newcomers noticed a near-naked Jasper standing by the pickup truck wearing not much but a horrified expression.

Carlisle was sitting on a log, trying to breathe through the throbbing pain, while Esme rubbed his shoulder and held his wounded hand.

"Oh, man, Carlisle. I'm so sorry. I shot Jasper. We didn't mean for anybody else to get hurt."

"Carlisle, it's all my fault," Jasper said, taking over Emmett's apology. "It was my idea. I'm sorry…"

"It's—all right—boys. I'm not going to yell at you."

Edward laughed inappropriately, and Esme glared at him, which instantly turned him impassive. "Sorry. It's just what Carlisle was thinking. He said in his head that he was going beat them and forgo the yelling."

Jacob laughed.

"Well I'm going to yell at them," said Charlie. "What were you two thinking? Or were you thinking at all? Firearms are deadly weapons. You don't play around with them, and you sure as hell don't shoot other people with them! I would think young men of your age would know that. What are you, first graders? I didn't realize that I would need to keep the guns and ammunition locked away."

"We're really sorry, Chief Swan," Emmett said.

"I just wanted to see if it would hurt me to get shot," Jasper explained. "And it did. You're right—stupid idea."

"You really needed him to tell you it was a bad idea?" Edward asked with superiority.

"Jasper and Emmett," Carlisle said softly. "Come here."

"Your hand, Carlisle," Esme quietly argued.

"I can use my other hand just as well."

"But they were just being boys, darling," she tried again. "Why don't we let this heal first?"

He smiled at his spouse, reassuring her that he wasn't cross, and he wouldn't mistreat "her boys."

"Yeah, Dad," Emmett hedged. "You don't want to hurt your hand any worse."

"You're ridiculous," laughed Edward. "You just let Jasper shoot you with a gun, but you're scared of Dad's hand."

"Well, I know his hand hurts…" Emmett pouted.

"Leave us, please," Carlisle requested, and the rest of the company retreated to the house, except for Esme, who rose to stand next to her husband.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for all the reviews and favorites! A surprising number of people have shown interest in this "codswallop"—that I seem to want to apologize for—and I can't express my gratitude enough. This story is distracting me from a couple of distressing events that life is bringing my way, and it is a healthy distraction, in my opinion, so I welcome it.**

**I was told several times that Jasper's involvement in this plot is quite Emmett-like. I can almost see the smoke coming from your ears, as it didn't compute. Why would Jasper think of such a thing? Well, I know a couple of Texans, and I know lots of military blokes. I blended them all together to get a Jasper for this story that I think is pretty realistic. I'm so sorry if it's not at all forgivable.**

**Anyway, your questions regretfully fueled my creative monster, and so I present another Twilight persona acting quite out of character in this chapter.**

**So without further ado...**

"This is not how I foresaw our vacation starting out," Alice pouted.

Edward smiled at her, indulgent and slightly regretful. "I feel sorry that we didn't stop them."

"Why?" Rosalie scoffed. "You think Jasper listens to reason once he gets an idea in his head?"

"What do you mean Jasper?" Alice retorted. "Emmett is the guy with all the brilliant schemes."

"Well, he's not shot Carlisle before. Not until Jasper encouraged him anyway."

The sisters glared at each other resentfully, before Rose turned away, nose in the air.

Edward, intent on keeping the peace—at least _inside_ the house—rationalized. "When those two set their minds to a joint cause, there isn't much that can deactivate the mission. We're only lucky nobody got shot before."

Renesmee stood by the window watching her grandfather giving her two uncles a talking-to. "What's going to happen to them?" she asked.

"Don't watch. Seeing it is almost as painful as _feeling_ it," said Alice, slightly petulant.

"Granddaddy's going to kill them, isn't he?" Nessie said indifferently.

"No…" Edward faltered.

Charlie, having overheard the conversation, chose that moment to crouch down in front of his little granddaughter, eye to eye. "Let this be a lesson to you, kiddo, that guns are not toys. You may absolutely not touch a gun until you learn the respectable and safe approach to firearms."

"Okay, Dad. She gets it, all right?" This came from Bella.

"Well, now we want to be sure, don't we? You understand, Ness? Guns _kill_ people." Charlie stood up suddenly and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "You know, now that I think of it… I realize that Carlisle is a doctor, but do we need to take him to an emergency room? I mean the damage to his hand from the shot— Wait a sec! Those young men fired at each other, and that was a pretty big slug too. There was no wound…or blood…shock…" Charlie paled as his voice gave out.

Billy stared at his police chief friend meaningfully. Jake, who was chewing a chicken leg, slapped the man heartily on the shoulder. "Need to know, Charlie?"

Sue subtly shook her head at him as if to say, "You don't really want to know."

"Oh. No. No, I don't need… Forget I asked." Then Charlie seemed to remember something else when his gaze wandered out the window to the campfire site where the rest of the Cullens engaged in dialogue. "But Carlisle did hurt his hand…right? And Jasper and Emmett are going to be punished?"

"I'm afraid so," Edward confirmed.

"How is that going to work?"

"Curiosity is not your friend in this instance, Charlie," Edward told him.

"But I mean… Is Esme going to tan those big boys? Because that would be surprising. She's such an unassuming woman…"

"My wife always left the spanking to me," said Billy.

Jacob barked a laugh. "That's what you think!"

It was then that Alice turned rigid, her expression blank. She was seeing what the others couldn't see: the time to come. When Nessie or the wolves got in the way, Alice's visionary glasses fogged over, and the reels of future film blacked out. Occasionally, however, a wink of clear sight would shine through, and this is exactly what happened when a disturbing image caught her mind's eye.

Edward's head whipped around to face his sister. "How does she know how to do that?"

Alice, uncharacteristically dispirited, shrugged. "You know Esme. Always full of surprises."

Edward rolled his eyes and moved toward the door. "No, she's really not. Esme is reliable and predictable and loyal. That's what makes her the perfect mother. Your vision must be a faulty. But all the same, I think I ought to…"

"Where are you going?" Rosalie asked him sharply.

"I'm going out there to straighten this out before our mother uses our brothers for target practice."

* * *

"You have how many diplomas between the two of you?"

Carlisle delivered the scolding without anger; he was surprisingly matter of fact for having recently been shot.

Jasper's eyes rolled up as he mentally tallied while Emmett stuck out his bottom lip. _They_ were surprisingly sturdy for having recently been shot.

Carlisle answered for the boys. "Innumerable. Countless honors and degrees…and decades of living. And yet neither of you stopped to think how wrong it is to fire a weapon in the midst of a crowd? Much less to fire it at one another. Of all the irresponsible, foolish notions. Thank God you hit me and not Sue or Billy or Charlie…"

"Carlisle—"

"No, Esme. Your sons have taken 'boys will be boys' to a whole new dismal dimension. What if a game warden had made a sudden appearance? Sorry to say I will not entertain any bargains for leniency. Now let's for the sake of diligence also touch on the fact that there were minors observing this shameful display—"

"What minors?" Emmett asked, interrupting.

"My granddaughter…"

"Oh, yeah."

"Seth Clearwater."

"That's reaching."

"That's not for you to say. Seth is still a lad—"

Esme interjected. "Darling?"

"One moment, love. Jasper, I would expect this sort of thing from Emmett"—the latter didn't disagree with that statement, but shrugged helplessly—"but not you. It's appalling. I'm not even going to go into how inappropriate your dress—or lack thereof—is when there are ladies and children present."

"Yes, sir."

During the lecture, the doctor's glasses had slipped down his nose and he heedlessly pushed them back to their place with his uninjured hand. "Emmett, there are bullet holes in the seat pockets of your jeans. I can see through to your skin."

The big boy looked down over his shoulder and smiled. "Yeah…"

Jasper snickered. He knew that didn't bode well for him, but he couldn't help himself when he discerned Emmett's humor.

"Neither of you is going to think this is so droll in a moment. You've left me no choice in this situation but to impress upon you the gravity of the event."

Emmett unwisely spoke up again. "Dude, I promise you that even if you don't do your smack-down routine, we will not shoot each other ever again. It wasn't even fun." He caught his brother's eye. "We are _never, ever, EVER_ shooting each other."

"Like, ever," Jasper said.

Emmett grinned and threw up his hands. "So you can let your hand heal!"

"I said I can use my other hand," Carlisle insisted, "and it is beginning to feel better."

"Dr. Cullen, may I please make a suggestion?" Esme said pleasantly.

"Soon." He looked at Jasper. "Son, I want to know why you thought shooting your brother was a grand idea."

The young man self-consciously scratched his head. "Uh…I don't reckon I know. I was curious, I guess. And a tad bored. I like to use my guns, but it's not fun to shoot wildlife, because I hunt in other ways…" Jasper sighed. "Do I really have to go into all of it?"

"All right. I think I get the idea. You thought it would be more entertaining to shoot your brother. Emmett, you want to explain to me why you pursued this course of action?"

"Same thing. Curious. Bored."

"And so I can expect repeat behaviour the next time you are both bored and curious?"

Jasper answered. "No, sir. Consider this failure our last. I am very sorry."

"It won't happen again. Sorry, Carlisle," Emmett said.

"If you're not now, you will be when I'm through with you," their father muttered.

Before any of the men knew she'd gone, Esme flashed back with the shotgun in question and a canister of small shot. She expertly loaded the gun while Carlisle, Jasper, and Emmett turned to stare at her.

"Carlisle, I won't have you hurting your hand further. This is an easy correction that I can administer." She checked the barrel chambers then snapped the weapon into its lethal position. "Jasper and Emmett, assume the position."

They continued to stare at her.

"Boys. Bend. Over. The. Log. Now," she directed in staccato speech. "I will not ask you again. Carlisle, dear, you might want to move away."

That was when Edward made a timely appearance. "Esme, give me the gun," he commanded softly.

"Oh, good," she said brightly. "Edward's here. I've always wanted to shoot Edward. You can bend over with your brothers," she told her eldest son.

He looked to his father for support, gesturing to the paradoxical manifestation of his mother with a shotgun. "Carlisle, control your wife."

"_As if,"_ the doctor said silently.

"You're only making me want to shoot you more, Edward," sang Esme.

The lad was beginning to worry for himself. "I think the humidity is getting to her," Edward spoke again to Carlisle. "You need to stop her. She's serious."

"Esme, love. I don't think it's proper to shoot your children," Carlisle tried.

"Oh, please. I'm not going to shoot them in the head or anything."

Edward's mouth dropped open, remembering that it was the same condition when Emmett volunteered his body for bullets. He wondered how much of that was a genetic-venom element, and if it were, he would share that same bloodline, so to speak.

"Besides, they've already shot each other," she finished.

Jasper turned on his winsome grin that always seemed to charm Esme. "Yes, ma'am, but we stood farther apart."

"Then maybe this will teach you not to act like a bunch of coonasses," she replied with a matching smile.

Had Carlisle been more in touch with his delicate side that day, he might have gasped at Mrs. Cullen's choice of language.

"Dad!" Edward shouted, when he noted the shock registering with his father. "Are you really going to let her use your progeny for cannon fodder?" He closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, woman, you don't know what you're doing. Alice is telling me that you're going to regret this if you follow through."

"Well, you can tell Alice to bring her little behind out here too and I'll regret shooting her as well."

"Carlisle," Jasper groaned. With the new threat thrown at Alice, he concentrated all his specialized efforts on this woman with the gun and she seemed to decompress. The laid-back Texan assumed they all could use a hit of composure, and so it was coming off of him in waves.

Then her husband finally found his voice. "Esme, whilst I agree that the punishment ought to fit the crime, this does seem a bit…hmm…"

"Redneck?" Emmett offered.

"Quite. It's all too rustic and violent for my taste, my dear."

"I suppose…" she began, Jasper's techniques achieving their full effect.

"That's it," Edward soothed, giving Jasper an encouraging nod. "Remember who you are, Esme. You are a Cullen, a doctor's wife. You're our mother, not our firing squad. Why don't you come with me? We can find some game to hunt. I hear that the deer in Louisiana drink the sweet tea. That ought to be nice change of flavor, don't you think?" He stuck an arm around his mother and led her gently away, glancing back over his shoulder to raise an eyebrow at Carlisle.


	3. Chapter 3

Emmett made a noise like a cough. "What was that supposed to be? Good cop, bad cop? Esme was acting just like Jasper."

"I'll be damned," said the aforementioned, "you're right! We are mighty close to the Lone Star State, from which hail the great clan of Whitlock. Maybe its proximity is rubbing off on her." He looked proud.

"I think _you_ might be rubbing off on her, my dear boy," his father said, sounding as though the episode had exhausted him. "I don't understand why you two were so averse to her shooting you when that's exactly what landed you in trouble in the first place."

"Yeah, let's overlook the fact that she wanted to shoot Edward and Alice too…" Emmett said sarcastically.

"And that it hurt like the dickens," said the descendant of the great clan of Whitlock.

Em nodded. "There is that."

"I'd rather take my chances with a whipping honestly. I was getting an unsettling, devil-may-care vibe from Esme. You, Carlisle, are always the safer bet."

"I can't believe our mother tried to pop a cap in our—" Emmett was interrupted by a shot heard from several miles away. He cursed. "You don't think she shot Edward, do you?"

"He'll survive," was all Carlisle said. Trigger-happy Esme had startled him initially, but he was over it already. He wouldn't let on to the boys, but he rather liked a bit of fire in his woman. What an intriguing thought: Queuing the children up and giving each a shot in the bum. It certainly would take a lot less time and effort when discipline was required. It reminded him of his long-ago stint as a military doctor, during which they lined up soldiers, trousers down, for inoculations. It was an efficient, if impersonal, method.

"Some people just need to be shot," Jasper was saying.

"See!" Emmett exclaimed. "You sound just like Esme did a minute ago."

Jasper hedged. "Now I'm not saying that Edward is one of those people, but I'm just sayin'…"

"And some people just need a good smacking," remarked Carlisle, "so let's pay for our wrongdoings so we can get back to celebrating Alice's birthday month. However, I'm not quite pleased with our position—I somehow don't think we have our privacy here." He looked to the window, where he spied Alice shaking her head. Carlisle flexed his stiff right hand. "Listen, boys. I hate to ruin your fun, but I'm going to need a belt, and none of us happen to be wearing one."

This pronouncement of their fate caused Emmett's and Jasper's spirits to flag, while at the same time their nerves amped up.

Emmett stuttered. "Eh—Edward's got one, but he's long gone and probably just a, er—a chalk outline in the woods by now. 'M gonna miss him."

"My jeans are over by the truck," said Jasper, "but my belt is more of a fashion statement than practical for what you have in mind." Indeed it had an oversized buckle and studs in the leather.

"Well, one of you can go fetch a proper belt from the house."

Jasper was resolute. "I'll do it. This was all my fault."

"Go then. We'll wait."

He trudged into the cabin and was met by terrific embarrassment as the family, extended family, and Quileutes stared at the young man wearing only his drawers and cowboy boots. Jasper raised his arms slightly, palms out, as if he were the resurrected Christ, and he blessed the house with manufactured sensations of comfort and ease and normalcy.

Nessie was blithely hanging upside-down off the sofa. "Ahhh, I love it when he does that."

Alice spoke up before Jasper had to. "Charlie, you're going to give Jasper your belt."

The man, who was always partial to Alice, unbuckled and slid the belt from its station and dangled it like rope for Jasper to take. There were no awkward feelings or confusion while Jasper was still there. He kissed his wife on the cheek and then returned to Carlisle, who was speaking in low tones to Emmett. Judging by his brother's hangdog expression and the guilt suspended in the air like the Spanish moss in the trees, Carlisle had used the intermission to give Em another dressing-down. Jasper felt like dirt.

It was true that their father felt Emmett could use a verbal reminder to check the smart comments when he was already in deep. Carlisle nodded at the belt in Jasper's hand, took it, and then cocked his head to the side. "Follow me."

The boys ran after him through a swampy area until he'd found a suitable stump to use for the proceedings. Jasper didn't like the grim aura coming from his father, but he supposed that was not unusual given the situation.

"Here we are then. Jasper, there aren't any corners out here, so…go hug a tree or something. Emmett, you're first."

The brawny lad was overly familiar with this process, so after heaving a big sigh, he unfastened his jeans and stepped to his dad's right side. Carlisle offered him his arm to hold onto as Emmett lowered himself facedown over the paternal knee. Carlisle wrenched his son's jeans and underwear down just enough to bare the application site. It was so muggy that even their vampire skin was sticky and overlaid with a sheen of moisture. He held the boy tight with his left arm; the other hand, gripping the folded piece of leather, rested across Emmett's waist.

"Son, I expect better of you. You must think for yourself in these situations and not be so easily persuaded. The operative word here being _think_."

"I'll try, Dad."

Carlisle raised the belt and brought it down with a snap. He'd folded it to make a short, neat implement that wasn't broad enough to cover both buttocks, but created a satisfying _thwack_, reaching about six inches across. Since his hand still held the sting of the bullet, this method allowed him to keep the range of motion to a minimum. It was more like he was using a leather-soled slipper or flip-flop. Carlisle didn't mean to keep count (even if his mind tracked numbers unconsciously); instead, he reflexively aimed for symmetry. Emmett merely grunted.

After ten strokes, he stopped suddenly, responding to a loud creaking noise.

"Jasper, not so tight. That tree is ancient. Let's leave it standing, please."

"I'm sorry, Carlisle. This is difficult for me."

"I know it is, son. Put your hands on your head."

When Jasper had obeyed, Carlisle applied another ten strokes to the unusually quiet fellow, who more often than not, used his mouth to get into trouble. Before, during, and after spankings, Emmett normally couldn't shut up.

Carlisle quickly pulled Emmett's briefs back up and let him stand. He was panting and clearly hurting, but he smiled sheepishly at his father. That was what was so likable about Emmett. No matter what was going on, if you asked him how he fared, he answered, "Awesome!" For certain, had Carlisle asked him, "How are you?" at this moment, his strapping son—who was on the mend from a strapping—would tell him he was okay, if not "awesome".

Emmett shuffled off to the side, with his pants still clinging to his thighs. "You guys mind if I let it hang out for a while?"

"That's fine with me. Stay over there, turned around. Jasper, you come here."

When Jasper was close enough, he leaned to whisper in the disciplinarian's ear, "You've got to be harder on me. It was my idea and I talked him into it."

That had been Carlisle's intention. He only nodded his acceptance and pulled Jasper down over his lap, briskly yanking the boxer shorts out of the way. Jasper's backside was more narrow and meager compared to Emmett's. Carlisle adjusted the length of the belt and decided to go for longer strokes, which, by default would fall with more force. He figured Jasper could handle two dozen and he certainly believed the misbehaviour warranted it. Jasper didn't need a lecture—Emmett's whipping had been his rebuke and what was coming next would conclude the argument. Carlisle wrapped an arm around Jasper's waist and performed his task. It was good fortune, he thought, that he only had to spank two boys instead of three this time; furthermore, he was pleased by their behaviour, which told him that they knew they deserved this punishment.

The drawn-out measured slapping sounds succeeded by Jasper's subdued yelps reverberated throughout the marsh for only two minutes.

* * *

"Why anybody would want to live here, I don't know." Edward started complaining even before he reached the campsite. "There are vipers everywhere you step and I saw a mosquito the size of a crow just now."

"I'm seeing several mosquitoes the size of vampires right now," Jacob muttered.

When Edward became visible through the trees, the girls gasped in astonishment, as he had draped over his shoulders a massive alligator.

"Where did you get that?" Jake asked, equally repelled and fascinated.

"Esme shot it."

"Oh, so that's what she shot. We thought it might've been you, bro," Em said.

"It was going to be either me or him."

"What are you going to do with it?" asked Charlie.

Esme answered him. "I'm going to cook it."

"Um… A sport hunter's license for non-residents in Louisiana is $150, I'm guessing you don't have the tags, and you can't take an alligator without a guide. Edward wouldn't count as a guide—"

Edward interrupted Charlie. "It was self-defense."

"You sure do know a lot about these things, Charlie," Alice flattered.

"Well, you don't get to be chief of police by being naive…even in a town like Forks."

Not at all worried about legalities, Esme wasted no time skinning and cleaning the animal. Charlie stood by her, scratching his head and looking around to see if anyone else was worried about this crime.

"Guess what?" Alice squealed, trying to distract him. "I rented an airboat!"

"I'm driving," Edward demanded.

"So dress appropriately. I will make you change if it's not pretty"—Alice made angry eyes and turned to shout—"_Bella!_"

Minutes later Carlisle walked out onto the lodge's wrap-around porch dressed in swim trunks.

"Aw. You look so cute in your socks," Alice cooed before her tone changed abruptly. "Take them off now!"

"Alice!"

"Young lady," Esme scolded, looking up from her butchering, "you may not speak to your father that way. But seriously, Carlisle, you do need to take those off."

"Sorry, daddy." Alice danced on her toes, like a child who needed to use the toilet. "Now, please take off the socks."

"Calm yourselves, ladies. I forgot I had them on is all."

"Just—" Alice spread her hands toward Carlisle's feet as though she could dissolve them by mind power alone.

"All right, all right," he mollified, while stripping off the slouchy white tube socks.

Edward took the gang for a river tour in the airboat, while Jasper and Emmett hung their sore rear ends in the wake. The water creatures, even those with sharp teeth, seemed to sense a more powerful predator in the area and fled the scene.

Carlisle deliberately demonstrated an excess of affection for the two boys he had to punish that day. He hooked an arm around their shoulders and playfully rubbed their hair. Although it was an ongoing challenge to persuade Emmett to keep his pants pulled up and not to go around looking like a gangster. Carlisle considered his uncommon brood and how each struggled with a different shortcoming: there was Edward's temper, Rosalie's spite, Emmett's mouth, Alice's—well, whatever it was that made Alice _Alice_—and Jasper's pride that occasionally caused him to do something rash. He supposed Bella's weakness would be her stubborn nature, and it was too early to tell with Nessie. Despite all that, Carlisle would keep his family close and do his best by them.

And speaking of family…

While the rest boated, Carlisle's wife finished with her alligator. She thinly sliced and fried pieces of the leg meat, and used ingredients from the fully stocked kitchen to make a seasoned stew for the tail. When the crew returned, she fed those that would eat.

"You are really losing yourself in the culture here," Charlie said, biting an alligator nugget. "Say, this is good. Salty… Chewy…" He was impressed, forgetting about the law-breaking, and she smiled at his pleasure.

Jasper and Emmett weren't grounded, but one condition of their reinstatement was that they had to apologize to Renesmee and explain why what they had done was wrong. Of course, she already knew they'd been bad and why, and for that she was cross with her wayward uncles.

"Get away," she warned.

"_Ruh_-nez-may," Emmett drawled in a Cajun accent, "we must make rez-tuh-tu-_shun_. We need your co-op-er-a-_shun_."

"I bite," she said caustically.

Bella tried not to chuckle, while Edward chided their daughter for rudeness and tried to mediate a truce.

At that point, Carlisle whisked Esme from the kitchen, tore off her apron, and settled her under his arm in a hammock outside. "We're going to need a holiday after this holiday. It was almost a total cock-up from the start."

"Don't tell, but I'm a bit embarrassed about the way I behaved, you know, with the gun…"

"We shall not speak of it again."

"I don't know what got into me."

"I know what got into you. Six bullet-proof teenagers with a taste for extremes. If Mummy's lost her mind, it's all their fault, and I would tell them so."

Esme laughed, appreciating the way he dismissed her quirks with good humor.

"But now I am worried about the game warden showing up and arresting my wife…"

"There's an easy solution," Esme cheeked, "we shoot him."

Carlisle started to sit up. "Young lady, do you need a spanking?"

She buried her face in his chest and squeaked a muffled, "No!"

"Must I describe to you what happened to Jasper for shooting a rare species of vampiric bear?"

"What about what happened to Emmett for shooting _you?_"

"You wouldn't like to find out, I assure you, but I'm willing to give a reenactment later when we're alone. Do you really want to tour the French Quarter tomorrow with a smarting behind?"

"Oh, I'm hardly worried about your gimpy hand…"

As he spoke, his teeth came near Esme's throat and she shivered. "I didn't use my hand, my dear."

A nearby whooshing noise caused the mister and missus to turn their heads in unison. Edward, having succeeded at getting the apology completed, was repeatedly throwing a giggling Renesmee thirty feet in the air and catching her. They watched with enjoyment.

"You see the way she looks at him," Carlisle said wistfully, "like he's the best thing in the world."

Esme smiled, warm and knowing. "She looks at you that way too. That's the way they all look at you."

Carlisle laughed sarcastically through his nose.

Esme reconsidered. "_We,_ I mean. We all look at you that way. Like you're the best thing in the world." She kissed him tenderly but broke away to reach behind his head and grab a venomous snake off a tree branch. Keeping her eyes on her husband, she expertly folded and snapped it, like one would do a belt, then threw the serpent into the woods. She returned to kissing the doctor, while Emmett hummed "My Heart Will Go On" from a distance.

THE END

**Thanks to all of you for reading, reviewing, favoriting, following! You are lovely and make it all worthwhile. Thanks to sisterglitch for the description of alligator nuggets and the "science-curator" lecture on reptile-meat nutrition that inspired Esme to make her own. Cumor provided a recipe for alligator sauce piquante and details on Louisiana hunting regulations for this clueless ****_former_**** urban dweller. (Oh, and Cumor? I'm currently the last to get Jasper out of his pants, so...tag, you're it!)**

**I'd written the first chapter to this story so long ago, that I'd forgotten the real-life circumstance that inspired it. You're not going to believe this, but I was on a bus headed to NYC when this woman traveling with her teenage daughter in the seats across the aisle asked for my husband's belt. Her hand was injured and in a brace, and she wanted to smack her kid. My husband politely (or not so politely) refused. Things like this happen to me all the time...**


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